God's Glory and God's Word Go Together

2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2

12 Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold. 13 We are not like Moses, who
would put a veil over his face to prevent the Israelites from seeing the end of what was passing away. 14 But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away. 15 Even to this day when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts. 16 But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. 17 Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 18 And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

1 Therefore, since through God’s mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. 2 Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to everyone’s conscience in the sight of God.

 God’s Glory and God’s Word Go Together

I want to show a picture. Can you tell me who this is?

It’s Moses. It was sculpted by Michelangelo in 1515 and is currently on display in Rome.

Do you notice anything strange about him?

Michelangelo sculpted Moses with two horns coming out of his head!

It’s an interesting story but it boils down to this: After spending 40 days and 40 nights in the presence of the Lord on the top of Mt. Sinai where he was receiving the 10 Commandments from God, when Moses came down that mountain his face was radiant.[1] It shined with the reflected glory of God.

That’s what Michelangelo was trying to capture in his sculpture. But how do you carve radiance? How do you sculpt shining glory? Michelangelo turned to Scripture and there he found that the Hebrew word used to describe the glory shining from Moses’ face like rays of blinding light is the same as the word for “horn.” So, to depict Moses in all his shining glory, Michelangelo gave him horns.

That was more than 500 years ago. What I find terribly ironic about this sculpture is that for more than 500 years, Moses has sat there in Rome with horns on his head. When in reality, the moment that Michelangelo captured in marble was brief; it was temporary. His face didn’t shine forever. That glory was transitory; it didn’t last. A few days after coming down from Mt. Sinai the glory would fade away until Moses went back up to see God again.

Now, that’s all fine and good for Moses. We read in Exodus 34 that he didn’t even realize that his face was shining. But the people he was talking to sure did, and his appearance had a powerful effect on them. When they first saw him, they were terrified. They didn’t want to come near him. And that makes sense, right?

So many times in the Bible, when people see an angel shining with the glory of God, what’s the first thing they do? They hide; they cower; they’re afraid. And what’s the first thing the angel says to them? “Do not be afraid! Have no fear!”

There’s something scary about sinners standing in the presence of holiness. Now, this comparison hardly does it justice, but it’s kind of like when you go to an event – do you remember those? – but you get the dress code wrong. Everyone else is wearing fancy clothes, e.g. ball gowns, tuxedos, and you’re standing in the corner wearing flip flops and a graphic tee. You feel so out of place. You feel so underdressed. You just want to slink out of the room unnoticed. Well, that’s kind of what it’s like to stand in the presence of holiness.

It was uncomfortable for the people to look at Moses when his face shined with the reflected glory of God, because it reminded them how unradiant and inglorious they looked. It made them painfully away of how unworthy they were to stand in the presence of God. And that scared them.

That’s where Moses’ veil comes in. Paul talks about it in his letter to the Corinthians. Moses had a habit of putting a veil over his face – but maybe not for the reason that you might think. He didn’t cover his face to prevent the people from seeing the glory and being afraid. He wanted them to see that glory and it was good for them to be afraid, because what he came down the mountain to say while his face was shining wasn’t his own message; it was the Word of God. And so, it was good and right for the people to stand in awe and to hold that word in holy reverence and fear, and it was a powerful way to communicate that God’s glory and God’s word go together.

Moses didn’t wear his veil to hide the glory. He wore that veil, as Paul says to the Corinthians, “to prevent the Israelites from seeing the end of what was passing away.”[2] That is what is so ironic about Michelangelo’s sculpture. Moses was never meant to have a permanently shining face, because the message he shared with the people – the Law he brought down from Mt. Sinai – wasn’t the final word that God had to say.  It was important. Those 10 Commandments are still God’s will, but God has a greater, still more glorious message to share with you in Christ.

The only problem is that, like those Israelites at the foot of Mt. Sinai, we don’t always like to see it. Or, as Paul says to the Corinthians, “But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read.”[3]

Like those Israelites who were unable to look at the face of Moses because of its glory, it’s uncomfortable for sinners of any age to stand in the presence of the holy God, especially when our hope is based on the Law, like the 10 Commandments that God gave to Moses.

Let’s put it in terms of everyday life. You get called to the carpet by your boss, your parent, your teacher or a friend because of something you know all too well that you did wrong. It’s hard to meet their eye, isn’t it? You’d rather stare at the ground and hand them something to try to make up for it, e.g. “Here’s a gift to replace the one I broke,” “Here’s a new client to soften the blow of the one I lost.”

We want to be able to do something to fix the situation, but nothing you do can ever erase the wrong you committed, and the person you wronged has every right to be angry at you. That’s uncomfortable.

That’s why to this day we crave the veil. That’s why we’d rather have a buffer between us and God. That’s why we love the Law so much, because it gives us the impression – really, the false hope – that there’s something we can do to make up for what we’ve done. Since the time of Moses people have clung to the 10 Commandments in the hope that if as long as I don’t murder my neighbour in cold blood, then God won’t be angry with me. As long as I don’t rob a bank, God can overlook the “little” sins, the “white” lies, my momentary weakness and “minor” faults.

But on the Mount of Transfiguration, Jesus takes the veil away, and he shows us all his unveiled glory. Next to him, in all that blazing brightness, Peter, James and John must have looked pretty drab. We all would have, because next to the holy glory of Jesus our sin stands out in stark contrast.

But the radiance of Jesus’ glory on the Mount of Transfiguration is different than the terrifying glory that the Israelites saw on Mt. Sinai, because Jesus’ glory shows us more than just our sin; it also shows us our salvation.

It’s funny. In his Gospel, Mark uses a technical term to describe how white Jesus’ clothes appeared when he had been transfigured. It refers to a launderer’s soap. His point is that no dry cleaner on earth could get whiter clothes than what Jesus was wearing.

I find that such a fitting description of Jesus’ glory, because there’s no way on earth that we can replicate it. We can’t wash our sin away even with the strongest bleach on the planet. We can’t clear our record with gallons of whiteout. But Jesus takes our scarlet sins and makes them white as snow. That’s what makes Jesus’ glory greater, and, as it happens, that’s exactly what Jesus and Moses were talking about on that day that Jesus was transfigured. Mark doesn’t tell us in his Gospel, but Luke tells us in his that they were talking about the sacrifice that Jesus was about to make for our sins.

Under Moses and the old covenant, every sin required sacrifice. Every wrong needed to be atoned for in blood. We just read a story in confirmation class about good King Hezekiah and how in a single day the people of Judah sacrificed more than 3,000 animals for their sins. There weren’t enough priests to slaughter all those animals; they had to deputize people from the crowd just to handle the volume. And that’s in one day. The covenant God gave through Moses on Mt. Sinai lasted 1,500 years! Imagine how many animals were sacrificed for sin! It’d be impossible to count.

Under Jesus and the new covenant, every sin still required sacrifice; every wrong still needed to be atoned for in blood – but not the blood of beasts. On the Mount of Transfiguration Jesus was making his final preparations to sacrifice himself for your sin, once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous. That glorious, radiant, shining Son of God in all his splendor would willingly go to a cross and surrender his life for you – for drab, dirty, sinful you.

That’s what makes Jesus’ glory greater. When we see him shining bright as the sun on the Mount of Transfiguration, he doesn’t make us afraid to be in his presence, he gives us the hope and confidence of Peter to say, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here.”[4] We don’t want to slink away because we are unworthy. We want to pitch a tent and stay a while because we are loved.

In this brief but beautiful scene, Jesus gives us the hope that Paul talked about in the first verse of our first lesson for today: Since we have such a hope, we are very bold.[5] Jesus removes the veil from between us and God and lifts our chins so that our eyes can meet his without guilt or shame, but sins forgiven. He shines in all his godly glory and through his glorious sacrifice for our sins, he is transforming us into his image with ever-increasing glory. Every day we get to be reflections of his radiance to this world.

You might not climb Mt. Sinai like Moses did and come down with horns on your head or a face as bright as the sun, but every time you come to hear God’s Word, he shares his glory with you too, and you get to take that glory into the world. Every time that you come here with battered and bruised hearts burdened by sin and shame, God shares with you his message of salvation and revives you to go back into the world with that same message of hope for others.

Even if you don’t leave this place with horns on your head or a face as bright as the sun, I pray that the people in your lives can see the light of Christ on your face. May you be like an unveiled Moses sharing a glorious message from God for this world of sins forgiven and the hope of heaven.

God’s glory and God’s word go together. God fill you with both until you see his unending glory in the halls of heaven. Amen.

[1] Exodus 34:29

[2] 2 Corinthians 3:13

[3] 2 Corinthians 3:14

[4] Mark 9:5

[5] 2 Corinthians 3:12

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God Is Not Your Golden Goose

Mark 1:29-39

29 As soon as they left the synagogue, they went with James and John to the home of Simon and Andrew. 30 Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they immediately told Jesus about her. 31 So he went to her, took her hand and helped her up. The fever left her and she began to wait on them.

32 That evening after sunset the people brought to Jesus all the sick and demon-possessed. 33 The whole town gathered at the door, 34 and Jesus healed many who had various diseases. He also drove out many demons, but he would not let the demons speak because they knew who he was.

35 Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. 36 Simon and his companions went to look for him, 37 and when they found him, they exclaimed: “Everyone is looking for you!”

38 Jesus replied, “Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.” 39 So he traveled throughout Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out demons.

God Is Not Your Golden Goose

I just want to say this right away: Faith is not a force field and God is not your golden goose, but he does care for you and he does intercede for you in every way that matters.

Let me say it again for good measure: Faith is not a force field and God is not your golden goose, but he does care for you and he does intercede for you in every way that matters.

We just read a portion of Mark’s Gospel that continues the theme from last week about the amazingly authoritative words and works of Jesus. Just like last week, we find Jesus, on the same day no less, driving out even more demons and preaching and teaching and healing diseases. It’s almost shocking when you think of how many demons there were and how disease-ridden the population seemed to be.

Last week it was a member of the synagogue who was afflicted with an impure spirit. This week we see Simon Peter’s mother-in-law laid up with a fever. Later in the Lesson we read some reports of “the whole town” gathering at Jesus’ door so that he could heal “all the sick and demon possessed.” There were a lot of people with a lot of needs.

But did you catch the theme here – the thread that ties so many of these cases together? So many – if not all – of these sick and demon-possessed people were members of Capernaum’s faith community. The impure spirit from last week was inside the synagogue. The fever was in Simon Peter’s family. The people who brought their sick and demon-possessed loved ones had come because they had heard Jesus preach.

I said before that faith is not a force field. Let me put it in a less sci-fi way: Believing in Jesus doesn’t mean that bad things will never happen to you. Bad things can still happen to you even when you believe. And as hard as that may be to accept, it’s important for you to know.

When your mother ends up in the hospital for the umpteenth time, it’s not because she or you have too little faith. It’s because we live in a diseased world. There are dangers all around us, both physical and spiritual. And believers aren’t immune.

For us to go through this life thinking that we are invincible or exempt from danger or pain is not only physically reckless; it’s spiritually dangerous. Christians can and do get sick. Believers can and do suffer loss. But if you went through life thinking that your faith would act as a force field fending off every minor inconvenience and major catastrophe, then you’d be left asking a lot of unnecessary questions about God and his goodness when tragedy does come.

God actually warns us that life will be harder for believers; that we should not be surprised to suffer. This is the expectation and it’s the reality we see in our lives and in the pages of Scripture. The believers in Capernaum had faith, but they still faced danger and disease and demon-possession, because faith is not a force field.

Neither is God your golden goose.

Jesus does some amazing things in Capernaum. He addresses and resolves the dangers and the diseases and even the demon-possession that were afflicting the faith community there. He has this miraculous ability to solve any conceivable earthly problem. But that’s not why he came.

I’m not entirely sure the people of Capernaum understood that, though. Mark tells us that “after sunset the people brought to Jesus all the sick and demon-possessed. The whole town gathered at the door…” There was miracle-fever in Capernaum, and everyone wanted a taste.

And who could blame them? Wouldn’t you want Jesus to cure your sick and ailing loved one? I know I would. Sometimes I do. But it’s so easy to treat our God like a golden goose or a genie in a bottle with phenomenal cosmic power but who is bound to our beck and call.

I’ll admit that I leaned on God a bit that way just this last week. I can’t tell you how many times I silently – and sometimes not so silently – prayed, “Lord, just let him sleep. Let my newborn, six-day-old baby find some rest so that I can sleep.”

I also got word this week that my mother was hospitalized again. She’s stable, thank God, but I did pray that he could make her well again.

Now, I want to be abundantly clear, here: it is in no way whatsoever wrong to pray to God for what you need – great or small, whether that’s 5 minutes of sleep or your mother’s health and life. What I feel compelled to confess, though, is that far too often my impulse to pray is purely needs-based.

Maybe you go through that too. You go through your day like any other, whistling a happy tune because everything’s going well. You get out of bed, you eat your meals without saying your regular prayers. You make it to the evening without having read your personal devotion. But then you get a piece of news that knocks you to your knees, and then you start thinking about God.

Then your prayer life wakes up and goes into overdrive. Then every 5 seconds you repeat the same prayer like a personal mantra, e.g. “Lord, just let him sleep. Lord, just let him sleep. Lord, just let him sleep.” And when God answers your prayer and gives you the relief you request, you say your quick prayer of thanks, but then you go right back on your merry way, stowing your genie back in his bottle until the next need arises.

I don’t want to slander the people of Capernaum. I can’t look into their hearts any more than I can look into yours. But I can tell you what’s in mine, and I can admit that if I had a sick or demon-possessed family member I would bring them to Jesus too. Not because Jesus is my golden goose or magical slave, but because Jesus cares.

Look at the care that Jesus showed to the people of Capernaum. After a full day of teaching and driving out demons, Jesus heads to Simon Peter’s house to rest, to eat a home cooked meal and lay his head on a pillow, but no sooner does he walk through the door and Peter is throwing another need at him. Immediately, Mark writes, Peter tells Jesus about his sick mother-in-law.

Again, it’s not bad to ask Jesus for help. It’s good to pray to God for your needs. But what I want to emphasize here is how this moment speaks volumes not about Peter, but about your Saviour.

Remember, at this point, Jesus isn’t in heaven anymore. He’s a real human with real human needs. But as much as he deserved a moment of rest to himself, Jesus jumped at the call. And not only did he act as immediately as Peter asked, but he showed careful, intimate, personal care to Peter’s mother-in-law. Jesus could have waved Peter off with a flick of the wrist and healed his mother-in-law with a snap of his fingers and moved on. But Jesus went to her, put her hand in his, and physically, personally helped her up.

Later that same night – Mark tells us it was “after sunset,” when people should be in bed – “the whole town gathered at the door.” Again, Jesus must have been exhausted. Again, Jesus deserved a moment to himself, but he doesn’t hesitate. He stays up late, and in compassion he meets people in the midst of their needs. “He healed many who had various diseases. He also drove out many demons.”

Jesus was personal and intimate toward Peter’s mother-in-law. He was selfless and compassionate to the people of Capernaum. But he makes it clear to his disciples that he didn’t just come for them. Jesus came for and loved all the people of Galilee, and Judea, and Samaria, and Assyria, and Rome, and Egypt, and Canada. Jesus came to do more than just heal some diseases and cast out a few demons.

He came to heal the world. He came to defeat the devil. He came to save souls. And while Jesus may not visit us this morning the way he visited Capernaum and heal all of our diseases, Jesus does care for you too and he intercedes for you in every way that matters.

What I find absolutely remarkable about our Saviour in Mark’s Gospel is how intent he is on caring for you. After being kept awake well after the sun set, and waking up before the sun rose, Jesus, tired as he must have been, did what we often fail to do. He took the time, he made the time and manufactured an occasion to pray. He had eyes for the people and world around him without ever losing sight of the mission he was sent to this world to complete.

If you thought that Jesus was selfless and compassionate to the people of Capernaum, sacrificing his time and sleep for them, what does it say about our Saviour that he sacrificed his life on a cross for you? If you thought that Jesus was personal and intimate toward Peter’s mother-in-law, taking her by the hand and healing her with his Word, what does it say about our Saviour that he continues to come to you in Word and Sacrament today, through the waters of Holy Baptism and the wine and the wafers of Holy Communion that you can hold in your hand for the forgiveness of your sins?

Our Saviour cares for you and intercedes for you in every way that matters. He does not promise that your faith will fend off every evil. He does not promise to solve all your earthly problems. But he has promised to forgive your sins. He has guaranteed your salvation. He died and rose to rescue your soul. He ascended into heaven and is still interceding for you at the right hand of his Father, just as he was that pre-dawn morning in Capernaum.

So, even when you fail to pray the right way – even when you treat Jesus more like a genie than your Saviour – you have the promise of his loving compassion and the proof of it in his cross. You have a Saviour who gave everything for you so that you might live – not a life of luxury here, but eternally with him in heaven.

I said it twice. I’ll say it a third time: Faith is not a force field and God is not your golden goose, but he does care for you and he intercedes for you in every way that matters. Amen.  

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